


When is a monster not a monster? (oh, when you love it)

by selflessbellamy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (turned into more of a love scene because i can't write porn... sorry), Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Holy crap I'm nervous to post this, Post-Season/Series 02, Some fluff as well i think, canonverse, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4001320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selflessbellamy/pseuds/selflessbellamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seventy days of non-stop thinking had imprinted an ache, which was most intense at the spot between her eyebrows. While trying to soothe it, chills made their fast way down her spine, moving to the skin of her arms next, as soon as she felt him looking at her. </p><p>She was certain that it was him, because if you happen to know a person just as well as Clarke knew Bellamy Blake, chances are that every single one of their perhaps thousands types of gazes have cut themselves into the deepest part of your memory, refusing to go away...</p>
            </blockquote>





	When is a monster not a monster? (oh, when you love it)

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever write smut again? Let's see...

_When is a monster not a monster?_

_Oh, when you love it…_

* * *

 

 

Fluttering her eyes shut at the sensation of the cold water from the waterfall spraying her skin, she wondered if it was possible to wash every last bit of blood away without catching a glimpse of her own reflection upon the surface of the lake. Ever since leaving the camp she had had this crazy desire to get clean, yet nothing but the dirt disappeared… No matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t capable of saving herself; at least not in her current state. 

It had been her decision to leave, hoping that it would hurt less when she wasn’t reminded constantly of what she had done, however now having wandered the lonely woods for a good two months, Clarke was beginning to realize that that wasn’t the case - because even though she didn’t exactly see their faces, they still showed up, plaguing her dreams and turning them into vivid nightmares. On many occasions she had thought about accepting Lexa’s invitation; going to Polis, but that idea never stayed within her mind let alone among her considerations for long. Facing the woman, who had betrayed her people was not a meeting she would be ready for any time soon - see, that was the main reason to why Clarke Griffin was still out here, surviving on whatever small animals she could hunt down and berries she could pick - as for right now, that was just enough to keep her alive.

But in a month, fall would officially approach, leaving her doomed.

Seventy days of non-stop thinking had imprinted an ache, which was most intense at the spot between her eyebrows. While trying to soothe it, chills made their fast way down her spine, moving to the skin of her arms next, as soon as she felt _him_ looking at her. 

She was certain that it was him, because if you happen to know a person just as well as Clarke knew Bellamy Blake, chances are that every single one of their perhaps thousands types of gazes have cut themselves into the deepest part of your memory, refusing to go away - sometimes, the worst even lie waiting on being able to creep into your already scary dreams and bring tears to your eyes when you finally wake up from them. 

Bellamy Blake was staring at her, but the eyes that she had noticed were not hungry or full of lust as you could only expect from a man. Instead, they seemed shockingly soft, which still managed to make her uncomfortable, and for a long moment she wished nothing more than for him to go away, leave her be - since if he stayed, that twitch of pain within her heart saying: ‘ _you let him down. You loved them, and you let all of them down’_ would grow stronger. No matter how much she tried to put the entire blame upon herself, Clarke was still aware that he shared an equal amount of the blame - that he had their blood on his hands, too, and now she was faced with the truth that was that she’d left him ruthlessly to deal with the pain, so that she could try and heal herself although it had meant leaving him with it alone.

She understood if he hated her now, and if that was the reason to him not saying anything, but that possibility instantly threatened to crush all of her - Bellamy Blake had been the one certain thing in her life for months: her co-leader, her confidant, a man, whom she trusted more than anyone, a man who tried his best to keep the weight off of her shoulders, however more than anything else: her best friend - to think she might’ve lost that forever was so devastating that it couldn’t be put into words.

Therefore, when she heard him start to turn away: feet moving upon the leaf-covered forest floor, she changed her mind and had to at least try and make it up to him: nevertheless, she wished above everything to talk to him one last time. 

“Bellamy, do you wanna join me?” Her attempt to keep the plea from sneaking into her tone of voice failed, making the question low. And she could only hope that he had in fact heard it. 

Long minutes passed by in which she didn’t think he was going to go through with it: that he was going to leave without offering her a single word - a choice, which she of course didn’t have the heart to blame him for. During that time, a lump grew quickly in her throat, and breathing more and more difficult as the size of it increased, since she couldn’t stop the thought of this being the end of their relationship, from running repeatedly through her messed up mind.

But then, instead of the pictured sound of leafs crushing and branches breaking, she heard the calm splashing created by soft movements in water, and it continued coming closer until she felt him standing right behind her. Not thinking, Clarke at last exhaled, blinking away the tears within her eyes, yet before her lungs had gotten a new supply of oxygen, Bellamy made the impulsive move to reach over her shoulders in order to bring the two sections of her hair - which were covering her chest to her back. Obviously, it was supposed to be comforting, but he clearly didn’t think that she intended to turn around and meet his gaze for the first time in what had passed by like an eternity. 

She noticed how his eyes immediately flickered to hers (if that action was done to keep him from looking at other parts of her remained unknown). Clarke found out that she had been right earlier, recognizing that specific gaze, just a little deeper.

“I want to know if you’re okay, Clarke,” he murmured, and as she averted her eyes a little she saw that his hands were fidgeting though placed along his sides. What did that mean? “Tell me the truth,” was the continuation that knocked her out of her thoughts. 

“… No, I’m not,” while saying that, she attempted to not sound fragile, but failed once more. And even though something told her to say more, she couldn’t get an elaboration upon her lips. However, he didn’t seem to need one after all. 

“Me neither,” 

At those two words, tears sprung to run down her cheeks, like superfluous drops in an ocean abruptly causing it to overflow - she was done with trying to hold it together now that she knew for sure: that this was all her fault, that she was guilty of breaking him because she wasn’t strong enough to be there for him once he clearly needed her to be. 

Sobs took over her ability to form an apology, and although she didn’t want him to, he wrapped his strong arms around her waist to pull her close until her cheek collided with his bare yet warm chest. 

“You’re okay,” he soothed, voice calm, “it’s not on you,”

“Bellamy-“¨

“No, listen please: it was my decision to bear those killings with you, and mine alone. I don’t want you to be by yourself out here, because then you’ll start blaming yourself for things that you _didn’t do,”_

Biting her lip, Clarke attempted to resist the urge to let the row of sobs - that had been built up from the ache in her heart and had travelled to her throat - emerge. But Bellamy decided to fight her, rubbing slow circles on the skin of her bare back, allowing them to all while he inhaled sharply, desperate for air - He was hurting, and she wasn’t going to let him be this selfless; not again.

Therefore, despite craving his embrace she pulled away, turning off her brain before taking his face in her hands; she forced herself to look into those deep, dark eyes: “I’ll never leave you alone,” while not thinking, it was much easier to gently run a fingertip across his toned collarbone, and unlike what she had initially expected, Bellamy didn’t flinch - not for a second, although his expression was awestruck as soon as she was faced with it once more. 

“You did, Clarke. You abandoned us all. And still we love you… _I_ love you, Clarke,” as he declared that, his voice was utterly raw; full of an unknown emotion that brought a sigh to the end of it. Did it exhaust him to love her? Or did it shatter him? At least, the burning, warm feeling that had grown within her heart intended to show his how they could fit together, and perhaps make a whole one… 

With merely a moment of thought, she carefully pulled his head down to her own, until their noses were grazing slightly. If Bellamy was uncomfortable he happened to be very good at hiding it, judging by the way his hand effortlessly found its home on the side of her neck, allowing their foreheads to connect as well. The bit of air that made out his steady breath left through his parted lips to brush against hers - all odds were saying that that last bit of distance would soon be narrowed down to nothing, but Clarke needed just some final conformation before believing them, which she got when he wrapped his arms around her waist. She kissed him, amazed at her own action for a little while, because _this was Bellamy, her friend, her partner, NOT her lover._

But then he kissed her back, twisting his face, so that her hand could snake along his neck as well until it met his hair and buried itself within the messy curls of it. It wasn’t hungry or even fast - instead it simply got more tender with every time their lips moved: his lightly pulling at hers, sucking, and she knew why: she helped him breathe, grounded him, because he did the same to her. 

His fingernails traced her spine - something that felt more like electricity running through her back, yet soon it stopped below her waist upon him being reminded that she was in fact naked; completely exposed. Ultimately that led him to reluctantly break their lips apart, _“not like this,”_

“What do you mean?” At that, he furrowed his eyebrows and first then she became aware of how her hands had made their way to the band of his jeans. Sighing, he took them in his, intertwining their fingers. It fluttered her heart, bringing a few tears to her eyes. She didn’t want to be afraid - not with him, yet she was: of any affection, especially one as sentimental as this. 

“… Where can we go?” He murmured, his jaw slacking at his own unexpected words afterwards, and while her heart stopped briefly just to pick up speed seconds later, she went on, telling herself _: I refuse to be afraid. I deserve it. I deserve to be loved._

“I know a place…”

 

* * *

 

 

Although being aware that he most likely had already seen some part of her, she still asked him to turn around while she got dressed, the water from her skin and hair seeping through her clothes. Bellamy’s hair too looked damp in the moonlight. Perhaps she couldn’t see his entire face since dusk had fallen, however she could feel his intense gaze at her back as soon as she took him by the hand - her small one fitting well in his - and began leading the way.

Being alone with her hadn’t really made him nervous until then; his throat was closing up, his palms were getting sweaty and something told him that he could trip over his own feet at any moment…

 

* * *

 

The bunker would’ve been pitch black if it wasn’t for the dim candlelight, and actually it was a lot bigger than the ones that they’d found guns in, with room for some furniture: a small table, a bookshelf, paintings and… a full-sized, real bed that was just big enough for both of them. Forcing himself to look away, Bellamy asked her: “How do you know this place?”

“I’ve stayed here for a while to shield myself from the rain. It’s a bit more like home. I do miss it,” she explained, not taking her eyes off of him: ocean blue meeting dark brown, threatening to explode in a supernova of color: yes, they were an unlikely match, yet it had proved to work, creating a good co-leadership… But polar opposites do attract, too.

“I miss you,” He admitted, not allowing her to reply - instead he covered her mouth with his, almost instantly deepening the kiss, and she greedily let him. Once again, she brought her hand to his hair, pulling at it slightly whilst feeling the sensation of how much this kiss was inching further and further away from the one they’d shared in the lake. Somehow, this was less tender but way more passionate. Nevertheless, she loved both of them, because it was him… 

One of his hands was cupping her face - the other, he placed on her lower back and she sighed at how it made the wet fabric of her shirt touch her skin. She broke the kiss, so that her lips could find his neck - suck at the pulse right below his jaw - and her fingernails his shoulder blades, which to her triumph earned a low groan from him.

Subconsciously, Bellamy started taking steps, backing them closer to what he thought was a wall, but in oppose to that, they collided with the table and Clarke almost lost her balance, but his arm was there to steady her before he lifted her by the thighs, onto the table surface - and as her lips parted to form a small gasp against his shoulder - her legs wrapped around his to draw him almost impossibly closer. Their mouths joined… It was far from perfect, their noses bumping and teeth clashing, but still it made painfully much sense. When her lips were getting bruised, Bellamy took time to swipe the tip of his tongue across them soothingly, and she urged him closer by clutching at his shirt, returning the favor. 

Then, ignoring her obvious hint, he started trailing kisses up her neck, some slow, some rather chaste, and her eyelids fluttered in pleasure. Digging his fingers into her hair, his teeth scraped the same path: _“Okay?”_ Bellamy rasped, and her body replied for her mouth by squirming against his, hands travelling up underneath his shirt, intending to be clearer this time, yet he was way more focused on putting the finishing touches on her neck, sucking the teeth marks one by one. Meanwhile, her fingers followed his spine like his had done with hers earlier; the only difference was that Clarke longed to explore his entire back until she at last got a reaction from him, which turned out be a somewhat frustrated groan as well as his full attention.

Barely an instant passed before Clarke willingly gave in to the massive heat within her stomach, and pulled off his shirt, tossing it on the floor. She suspected from the look on his face that he wasn’t comfortable with his chest not being hidden by neither fabric nor the darkness, and when he attempted to kiss her, that allegation was confirmed. After rejecting the only thing that could have gotten him out of it, she gently pushed him away a little, creating enough room between them for her to gaze at his chest, and immediately she saw what it was that the darkness and fabric had been concealing: his skin was marked by white scars in a variety of lengths. 

“You didn’t tell me it was this bad,” she croaked after a beat, unable to take her eyes off of the sight. They had done this to him in Mount Weather during the harvest, which he’d mentioned briefly during their walk back to camp. But never had _these_ crossed his lips… _She sent him in there - this was her fault too._

Guilt nagging at her heart replaced the warmth for a while, and she pressed her lips to the first one she spotted; it was right below his collarbone and fated, then moved on to the next and the kisses only grew slower as tears formed within her eyes, causing her to constantly have to pull herself together in order not to cry. 

“Clarke…” Bellamy placed a hand on the back of her head, nuzzling her hair, “you had absolutely nothing to do with it - I went in there to save our friends, not for you. If anyone’s to blame, it’s clearly me,” 

Pulling away from his chest, she met his gaze, blinking away the last tears within hers that hadn’t already been freed on his skin, “at least I didn’t lose you,” 

Upon shaking his head, a tiny smile curved the corners of his mouth and  he clashed their lips together again, letting no more than ten seconds pass before his fingers found the hem of her shirt to play with it long enough for her to whisper in his ear: “Stop being a tease, Bellamy. I refuse to play any games tonight,” merely _somewhat_ obeying, he slid his hands underneath it, warm fingers discovering her ribcage. 

“If you say so,” with that comment, he at last pulled the shirt over her head, letting it join his own on the floor. Unlike what she’d done, he placed a long, tender kiss to the crook of her neck; only after that was over, he looked at her: delicious curves and breasts that had shamefully been on his mind every day during the time before they had teamed up for leadership.

Then, fantasizing about her had become a no-go, which was a bummer really…

Once more, his lips wandered over the newly exposed skin, mapping it like the rest, and Clarke couldn’t help but notice how his kisses turned extra loving when they reached the valley of her breasts. She squirmed again, tugging at his hair until she could literally feel how ragged his breath became. Moving his hands down her stomach, Bellamy glanced up at her, his chest heaving, and it just got worse as he was going to unzip her pants, because she released the highly-anticipated moan from her throat. He undid the button - feeling an embarrassing blush creep into his cheeks - and begun to pull them down painfully slowly. Her thighs clenched around his thumbs, which nearly made him choke.

It seemed like her legs went on for miles, yet when her pants finally were hanging loosely around her ankles, he kissed the insides of her knees, honestly not daring to place them on that of her thighs like he had initially planned, because that was for later… 

Eyes gazing into hers, he got renewed confirmation, and unbound her ankles from the fabric. He let his palms glide up her legs - as far as he could reach while rising to his feet once more, which almost felt too intimate, making Clarke have to swallow hard before grabbing the back of his neck to bring their lips together for a patient kiss: “You want this?” He breathed, sweetly caressing her cheek and jawline with his thumb, pressing their foreheads together, “it’s okay if you think this is too weird-“

“Shut up and love me,” 

Actually, the words were half a command and a half a plead, which led Bellamy to not hesitate one more second; wrapping an arm around her back, placing the other under her thighs, he finally lifted her from the table surface that she had felt glued to, permitting her to latch herself onto his waist. Cradling his face, Clarke kissed him fully, not even flinching for a single moment when Bellamy’s hand on her back suddenly found the band of her bra, ran a fingertip along it - which created goose bumps all over her skin - and unclasped it. Instead, as soon as he had thrown it off to the side, she bent down to press her lips to his neck and shoulders, intentionally grinding against him in the process; as it turns out, the sensation of her soft chest hitting his own, combined with her hand in his hair proved to be too much for him, and he almost stumbled backwards. 

“Clarke…” Hearing her name as a breathy moan emerging from his lips nearly knocked her out of rhythm, “will you please be patient?” That continuation was shockingly close to a chuckle. He kissed the hollow of her throat, placing her gently on top the rather thin sheets, which were covering the bed. Honestly, she wanted nothing more than to reply, but was incapable of it: both with words and a shake of her head, because Bellamy was hovering above her, his ragged breath constantly meeting her skin, and she could do nothing except gaze deeply into his eyes, a low whimper escaping her lips just before they were covered by his. It was short yet carried such a force that it nearly drew her face all the way up to his, yet as soon as it broke, her head dropped back into the mattress.

With eyebrows slightly furrowed, and a couple of fingers of his left hand playing with her golden hair splayed out as a halo around her head, his gaze fell on her breasts. Instantly, an unknown nervousness showed in her facial expression. To prevent him from seeing it, she flickered her gaze to the ceiling, and at that moment she noticed that his thumbs had begun to stroke the sides of them, slowly moving further towards the center, rubbing small circles into the skin that also came to brush over her nipples. Although she shivered, Bellamy didn’t stop there, kissing both, gently sucking them into his mouth; an action so intimate that it caused her breath to hitch. 

She could sense him smile against her stomach as his lips as well as his hands travelled downward, exploring every inch of skin with feather-light touches. Desperately, she reached for him, but he had gotten to her panties and her arms weren’t long enough. After pausing for a few seconds, Bellamy at last paid attention her thighs, sucking kisses on them that made Clarke have to hold herself back from clenching them - “You like it?” He asked hoarsely, lips teasingly close to the band, and she nodded hurriedly, unnecessarily suppressing a whimper, “show me,” something within him had changed, begging her to expose her pleasure which was not a simple thing for her to do. But it was like he realized that, because he moved himself to her head again where he stared reassuringly into her eyes before kissing her deeply, carrying on with her neck, and she started relaxing more, “I’m so sorry, Clarke. I just wanted to know-“

“You’re amazing, Bellamy. You hear me? My guard is just up right now, and I have no idea why,” _God, why did she have to start crying now? This was undoubtedly going to scare him away_ , she thought, yet he simply wiped the few tears from her cheeks, marking them with lingering kisses afterwards, “I really want you - then, this happens,”

“Hey, take a deep breath. I’m not going anywhere,” quickly she did as told, feeling that mixed with his hands carefully wandering her skin again, calming her: maybe the method was slow, but still it was successful… 

So soon enough, Bellamy picked up where he had left off by pushing two fingers underneath the fabric on each side of her panties to gradually pull them down. He was a little stunned when she started helping him, parting her thighs more. Inhaling sharply, Bellamy closed his eyes whilst uncovering her.

“You may look at me,” Clarke breathed, and his brief shyness vanished into thin air once he’d reopened his eyes to find her all ready for him. At the sight, the pants and boxers that still covered him started itching to get off. However, just as he reached down, she rose to her knees, staring into his eyes with a serious gaze: she clearly wasn’t afraid of how exposed she was, which meant that he shouldn’t be either, “you undressed me. It’s only fair for me to return the favor,” she stated matter-of-factly, barely taking a second to look at him swallow a lump before reaching for his belt buckle, however her hands fidgeting unraveled that she wasn’t as confident as she seemed. Therefore, he kissed her, pulling her body closer. 

The belt landed on the floor with a heavy sound, which turned on some alarms within Bellamy’s mind: _there was no going back - they were really doing this, and it was partly his job to make sure that she would never forget it. Well, because… No, he refused to think of that._

He turned his attention back to her; how she made sure to tease him as much as he had her, hands tracing every scar on his chest once more, not allowing him to stop her this time. She went over each of them, carefully giving them all equal attention, and even though she had to bite her lip a couple of times to prevent the guilt from conquering her throat, she managed it without crying. Despite his rejection during her first attempt, as she looked up at him, his eyes were half closed from indulgence. Quickly, she changed her pace, grabbing not only at the band of his jeans but also that of his boxers underneath. It merely took one reassuring glance for her to start pulling them down, roughly. 

Like she had done with her panties, he helped her with the last bit using his hands, and practically forced her into a passionate kiss as soon as the clothing were out of the way.

Breaking the kiss, she briefly arched an eyebrow and rubbed her hands on his hips before at last letting her eyes fall on him. Immediately, she heard him suck in a breath as she had done upon being left naked, “we have to trust one another,” Clarke said and he nodded unhurriedly, placing a hand on the small of her back to lay her down whilst kissing her sweetly.

“Do you trust me?” Bellamy questioned, nuzzling her nose with his own - something, that made her eyelids flutter a little. Then, she brought her hands to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer until she felt his erection brush against the inside of her thigh and released a moan against his lips, so that she had to wait ‘til she was able to respond: “More than anyone,” that made him smile, first lovingly, but it turned somewhat mischievous all of sudden - that was when she knew that he wasn’t done with her yet.

_Oh, God - did he want to--? Shit._

At an instant, the smile fated, causing his facial expression to become serious, and as he trailed hot kisses up her neck, her breath grew heavier in anticipation.

Hungry for her reaction, he guided his fingers to leave invisible prints on the skin of her arms: “Please go lower,” upon her request, they trailed over her nipples to settle on her ribcage, and he could easily feel her heart trying to burst through it, “here?” in spite of all his effort, Clarke didn’t think that his teasing was fun anymore; choking back a whimper, she managed: “Bellamy, you know where I want you,” he chuckled, taking his hands with him to her knees, and as a nervous reflex she clenched them together. Instantly, he hovered above her again, their faces few inches apart, “Has anyone ever…?” There was no need for him to continue that sentence. 

“No,”

“If you want me to stop, please tell me,” when she had nodded, she narrowed the one-inch space between their lips to nothing, giving him permission.

Closing her eyes, she felt his weight disappear off of her chest, but a minute later his hands were on her knees, pushing them a little further apart, “grab at the sheets,” he instructed, and she obeyed without much thought. Hearing him groan softly, she tightened her grip around the fabric just in time to squeeze it as he pushed a finger inside her, and it only took him a few seconds to find her clit, which he started rubbing in gentle circles. 

Bellamy was right about the sheets: they definitely helped, _“God,”_ her body tense with built-up pleasure, she tensed, having no idea why she was holding back the sounds as much as she could, stretching further and further to prevent them from escaping.

“Remember to breathe, Clarke,” most other guys would have had a row of dirty words in their mouth to spit out, but _his_ tonestayed remarkably soft while his left hand - that had been caressing her hipbone - went to find hers, which fisted at the sheets that now got a replacement, their fingers intertwining as much as they could. But then, after she’d actually taken a couple of troubled inhales, Bellamy added another finger, lightly kissing her folds, and Clarke felt her eyes roll back into her skull before she lost it, moaning until they ended up hitching in her throat.

“Bellamy… Stop… Please,” she rasped upon feeling the tip of his tongue inside her for the second time, and surprisingly he obeyed right away, though not without looking at her as a little boy who just had his candy stolen, “I’m close. Very close, and I want to have had all of you when it hits,” explaining, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of his face (he was _beaming_ ) once he had placed himself between her legs again. When he kissed her, she could taste herself on his lips, which was surprising enough to make her break away almost immediately, but at least Bellamy didn’t seem to doubt why, color rushing into his cheeks as he noticed the widening of her eyes: “Oh, I’m sorry,” with those words, he hurried to wipe her mouth off, yet before he could do it to this own as well, Clarke sighed, willingly licking the remains of her wetness off of his lips.

Bellamy groaned at the unexpected action, kissing her deeper while his fingers traced the line of love-bites that he had left earlier. His breath was incredibly heavy as she broke the connection, staring into his eyes, but he still somehow managed to ask: “Are you sure?” Resting her forehead vaguely against his, she nodded, thinking that she’d possibly never been so sure about anything. 

He lifted her a tiny bit from the mattress, so that his hands could find the back of her head and her spine before he slowly thrust into her. Right away, she grabbed onto his back as the first whimper crossed her lips. Months had passed since she’d been with anyone, therefore she was struggling a bit to adjust, “wrap your legs around my waist if it helps,” Bellamy advised, and felt her do so. Now moving deeper, he quickly noticed her relaxing more in his arms, which allowed him to kiss her.

Right then, he sort of wished that he couldn’t feel everything: one of her hands buried deeply within his hair, gripping more at it with every movement - although they were loving and soft - fingernails on the other dug into the skin of his shoulder blade - all of the uncontrolled gasps or moans leaving her lips to meet his as air and his ears as wonderful sounds that kept him going - if not also confirmed how close she was.

“Come on, Clarke,” whispering in between the small kisses that he planted on her collarbone, Bellamy secretly hoped that his voice would take her the last way, “you can let go,” God, how he wanted to thrust harder, knowing that it would undoubtedly help, but something kept him from it: a little voice in his head still constantly reminded him who he was with - that this was Clarke, and she ought to be loved, not banged.

As a final, desperate attempt, he angled himself differently, taking her with him to a somewhat awkward position - but there he appeared to hit the right spot, because she only lasted two more thrusts, falling apart in his arms, thighs trembling slightly around him, and he stilled, instead kissing her through the orgasm, _“that’s good,”_ obviously saying that brought back memories that were weird to think back to when they were here - doing one of the lone things they never believed they would ever be doing together - yet Bellamy didn’t realize it before it was too late; Clarke was already staring at him, eyes half-open while she still tried to work off the last bit of pleasure, visible tears within them. Guilt twitching as an ache in his heart, he pressed a lingering kiss to the base of her throat.

Holding her face between his warm palms, Bellamy watched her shortly bite her lower lip before the words were able to surface: “Everything’s just so raw, you know? So intense, but I want it, I want it so badly,” then, she squeezed his hip underneath the thin blanket, and he got the memo, thrusting once more, pressing her into the mattress with his slow movements; hearing the gasps that fell from her lips following them, brought him to shamelessly extend the them more. 

Longing for another position, he pulled out without warning (the look on her face was one of the most disappointed ones he’d seen - and that said a lot, because he had been the person to constantly tell O ‘no’ every time she asked if she could see The Ark), however only to take her hands, guiding her to sit on her knees. Not paying much attention to the confused expression on her face, Bellamy crossed his legs in a lotus, which was what ended up making her understand what he intended, so without any form of reassurance or guidance, she positioned herself in his lap and cradled his face in her hands.

“Is this okay?” He asked before trying to bring the blanket around their bodies, however Clarke wouldn’t let him, nodding in response to his question but pushing the cloth down.

“I wish for you to feel me - not a piece of fabric,” while explaining her tone was serious; the one he’d known for the longest time. To him, Clarke was always serious, which was one of the things that made her so captivating; so _beautiful._ Upon nuzzling his nose for a second, she thrusted, a little harder than him, nipping at the side of his neck. They met each other like the stone meets the blade, Bellamy’s fingers exploring her back ceaselessly, grabbing the small pieces of sweaty hair that fell over her face with time. 

Touching her was no longer weird; not when he at last had mapped every inch of her skin, wanting to have her memorized, “you done?” He asked sweetly as he sensed her exhaustion, her muscles slacking against him. Reluctantly, she nodded, letting him press a hand to her spine to lay her down, and suddenly - just like that, she was smiling - no, not smiling… Grinning. For a second he wanted to shout it to the world: that he had been the one to make Clarke Griffin grin!

“Is that a smile?” He teased, one growing on his lips too, but she tried to avoid his gaze by twisting her head, unable to hide her giggling; a sound so amazing that it made his heart flutter, “come on, let me see,” stubborn, Bellamy took her face in his hands to turn it back into his sight - her eyes shining in a way that he believed he’d only seen them do once before, an eternity ago, alight with sparks he’d thought had gone out forever - and it managed to make him emotional: “Oh my God,” incapable of controlling himself, he began peppering small kisses all over her face: the now curved corners of her mouth, her nose, her cheeks, her forehead…

“What?” She questioned, chuckling as he kept on staring at her, but she never stopped smiling, not for one second.

“You’re beautiful,” 

At that she _rolled her eyes a little,_ and for one a second Bellamy actually thought that he was dreaming, because there simply was no other reasonable explanation to this - well, in that case he begged the universe to never wake him up - for one second he dreaded the end of this - for it to go unfinished since it hadn’t even existed, but instead he got Clarke rolling them over on their sides, entangling their legs to pulling herself closer to him until their chests connected. 

“And you,” she replied, her thumb resting on his lower lip, “are a dork,”

Honestly, he didn’t even care, knowing that it was true after all - still, who could blame him? He hadn’t been smiling - let alone happy - in what felt like a lifetime. Sometimes, he didn’t remember smiling once after they’d come to Earth, and if he had, it had most likely been for the wrong reasons. 

Despite the truth in that statement, Bellamy wasn’t going to let her have the last teasing; and the happiness thing was something he wanted to go on as long as it could, so in oppose to just admit that she was right, he reached under the blanket, between her thighs to find her clit again. Breathless, she gripped at his shoulders, however mercilessly he continued working it until her whole body was trembling in pleasure.

“Bell-“ Swallowing the last bit to his name, he kissed her as she came undone. Clarke exhaled heavily a couple of times, wanting to dry the smirk off of his face, which she sure did once she flipped him around to lay on his back and hovered above his waist.

“I thought you didn’t want to play any games tonight,” with her hands running up his chest, he found it hard to form actual words.

“Hey, you started it, remember?”

“Seriously Clarke, you don’t have to do this,” smirking mischievously at his very serious comment, she leaned further up his chest to whisper in his ear: “but what if I want to?”

“Then I’m not complaining,”

“Good,” biting her lower lip, she felt his strong hands rush to support her waist upon her first thrust, and although it took her a minute to find a nice, slow rhythm that was like his own, she managed to finally get him over the edge within a decent amount of time - which did take all of her remaining energy, but it was so worth it. 

Rolling off of him, and back to her side in a much more comfortable position, Clarke started playing with his hair idly, running her fingers through his curls and over his temple, “how do you last so long?” was the first thing she asked - out of innocent curiosity - when he’d turned his attention from the ceiling to her, not seeming embarrassed of his still ragged breath.

Bellamy had this way of looking at her with emotions that were deep yet completely unknown to science, and he gave her one of those gazes before placing a hand gently around the side of her neck in order to make their foreheads graze, “because I want nothing more than for this to last,” he admitted, which caused her jaw to slack a little in surprise, even though she shared that thought. 

None of them wished for this to end…

And as they laid there, wrapped up tightly in each other’s arms, covered in a thin layer of sweat, Clarke found the courage to say: _“I love you too,”_


End file.
